


12 days of super junior, a christmas fic

by plincess_cho (ai_hao)



Category: Super Junior
Genre: Christmas, Gen, Super Junior - Freeform, all the love for my favorite boys, bandfic, just some more sappiness, non-au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-14
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-14 14:42:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 11,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13009974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ai_hao/pseuds/plincess_cho
Summary: As Super Junior contemplate what they want for Christmas, they realize that above all, they want to be together.





	1. day one | leeteuk

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my lovely betas, especially Vi and Zea!

All Leeteuk wants for Christmas is twenty-four hours of pure, uninterrupted sleep. He looks at himself in the mirror as he gets ready for yet another filming and grimaces at the lines on his forehead and around his eyes. He won’t be surprised to find gray hairs scattered across his scalp. Maybe that’s why he dyes his hair so often. He fully admits that he’s trying to stay the passing of time as much as possible, but time comes and goes whether he likes it or not.

He hears his puppy pattering down the hallway towards the bathroom and the corners of his mouth twitch into a smile. Soon enough she appears at the bathroom door to look up at him and remind him that it’s breakfast time. He finishes scrutinizing himself in the mirror and follows his dog down the hall to the kitchen to set out some food for her. He’ll be gone nearly all day today, and his heart pangs slightly at the thought of leaving her here all alone. Of course, his housekeeper will arrive later that morning to tidy things up and check in on her, but it isn’t quite the same.

Leeteuk likes having her around though. It’s nice to come home to someone at the end of the day, even if that someone sheds hair everywhere, chews all his slippers, and pees all over the kitchen floor. Moving out of the dorms a few years back had been a long time coming, but disorienting nonetheless. He’s grateful now that at least Donghae and Eunhyuk live in the same apartment complex and visit often but…

But that isn’t quite the same either.

He sighs as he fixes himself a meager breakfast. He hardly has any food at home on account of never being around. They usually feed him on set or the fans send in snacks, which he always appreciates. Some days he hardly has time to breathe let alone feed himself. At least his constant busyness keeps him from worrying about the future and whether or not Super Junior will cease to exist once and for all.

It’s something that he’s thought about every single day since November 6, 2005: disbandment. He’s never admitted it to the boys of course, only Heechul in passing. It’s not that he didn’t believe in them, but some days the obstacles they faced had seemed too insurmountable to overcome. They’d gotten through a litany of trials in the past twelve years that most groups will never face in their entire lives, but there are times where Leeteuk wonders how much more they can withstand.

“I don’t know,” is Heechul’s honest answer when they discuss it late at night, away from the listening ears of the other members. 

Oh Heechul. Leeteuk doesn’t know what he would have done without Heechul, someone so close in age that he’d been days away from becoming Super Junior’s leader, someone to share the burden of leadership with in his own special way, someone to lean on when he is too weak to carry on…

Leeteuk doesn’t remember  [falling asleep](https://twitter.com/superfantasia/status/338326783646650368) on top of the metal box, but he does remember waking to Heechul holding his hands steady to keep him from toppling off in his sleep. He remembers how Heechul looked up at him, his eyes filled with concern and pain, and the way he had softly said, “Hyung, rest a while longer. I won’t let you fall.”

From that point on, he and Heechul had forged a special bond that the others attributed mainly to age. True, they were both born within days of each other, but it had been more than that--it had been the shared responsibility to care for the younger members that they had been entrusted with. Leeteuk had watched over the other members, and Heechul had watched over Leeteuk, giving him the strength to stand when it seemed like he would crumple and fall.

Leeteuk smiles at the memory. Some of the other leaders in the company had asked him for advice on how to lead their own teams, and Leeteuk’s main advice had been this: to give your best for your members and the sake of the team and to find a team that gives their best for you as well. 

Despite all of the scandals, the trials, the struggles, and the tears, Leeteuk knows he’ll always beam with pride when he thinks about his own team. They had started as a ragtag bunch of reject trainees that had since overcome all odds to become a beautiful mismatched family.

His phone chimes and he realizes he has to hustle if he’s going to get out the door on time. He has another day packed full of schedules and he makes a note to stop for coffee on the way to the studio. He knows that his bloodstream is probably 95% caffeine by now, but if it keeps him going, he’ll take it. 

He runs out to the van where his manager is waiting patiently at the curb, and they drive off. He pulls open his calendar to confirm everything he has today when he gets a text message from Eunhyuk.

_ AllRiseSilver: hyung, r u busy tonight? me and dh were gonna order takeout  _

Leeteuk smiles at his phone. The minute the kids had moved into his building, it had almost felt like the dorms all over again. He knows for a fact that Donghae spends half his time at Eunhyuk’s and vice versa, and when they’re not there, they usually pester Leeteuk to let them into his apartment. He’ll halfheartedly try to decline, but they’ll win him over every time. 

It’s a nice feeling, he thinks to himself, being wanted.

Leeteuk texts back that he can probably make time later that evening if they want to wait that long and gets an immediate response confirming another late-night takeout binge. He knows that he has an early morning the next day, but it doesn’t matter. 

He doesn’t know how much longer this all is going to last. It could be months, it could be years, it could be decades. But that night, when he sits across from Donghae and Eunhyuk, all of them shoving takeout noodles into their mouths, he knows that he’s going to cherish every moment.

And maybe that’s really what he wants for Christmas: not hours of sleep or time to be alone, but moments like this where everyone is happy, well-fed, and  _ together _ .


	2. day two | yesung

“Yesung oppa, what do you want for Christmas?”

Yesung smiles at the comment on his instagram post. He’s thankful for the rise of social media hubs where he can communicate with fans. He hasn’t been sleeping well lately for a variety of reasons and knowing that someone out there is always awake and thinking about him always manages to calm him down from another insomnia-induced panic.

He can hardly believe that Christmas is mere days away. For Yesung, time has become an increasingly fluid concept. Ever since he had returned from the army, time had seemed to speed up until… well until Ryeowook left. Then things had slowed to a crawl and by the time Kyuhyun had enlisted, time had just about stopped.

Ryeowook’s enlistment had hit him particularly hard. They had spent so much time together in the time leading up to enlistment what with the KRY tours, Super Junior schedules, and movie dates, that when he’d left, Yesung had felt like a part of him had enlisted too. 

He had tried to replace Kyuhyun and Ryeowook with Donghae and Eunhyuk, but it hadn’t quite worked. 

Of course, no one could replace Kyuhyun and Ryeowook.

At least they’re releasing a KRY song for their eighth album, even though it’s one that they recorded eons ago. Yesung really wants to make a full KRY album, but the other two still require more convincing. He hopes that they’ll come back from the army ready to sing their lungs out and be the ones begging  _ him _ to record an album together.

Promoting by himself had been… depressing. His album hadn’t done as well as he had wanted, and frankly being without the members had been weird. Despite his inherent introversion, Yesung had realized that he had grown so accustomed to the natural cacophony that defines Super Junior that being without it… It had been an experience that Yesung never wanted to repeat.

_ All I want for Christmas, _ he types back in response,  _ is for Kyuhyun and Ryeowook to come back from the army. _

He deletes the comment, tosses his phone onto his bed, and resigns himself to yet another night without sleep. He gets up and heads for his desk where he pulls out a notebook and pen to start another letter to Ryeowook. 

Out of all the members who had recently been enlisted, Yesung had visited Ryeowook the most. Siwon had spent his entire leave time with his family, Sungmin with his wife, Donghae and Eunhyuk with each other, Kyuhyun with his family and Changmin, and Shindong with a variety of friends. Ryeowook, on the other hand, had allocated some leave time to his family, some leave time to his friends, and some leave time to the members. 

Yesung remembers visiting Ryeowook in the army for the first time. He had veritably sneaked himself out of Seoul, avoiding any fans who might be following him around, and had taken a nondescript car out to the military base where Ryeowook had been stationed. He’d waited patiently in the common area with other family members and friends who had come to visit their soldiers until Ryeowook had appeared, chatting amiably with some of his army mates. Upon seeing Yesung, he had smiled broadly and walked over.

“You’re too skinny. You should eat more,” had been the first thing he had said, poking Yesung in the stomach. Yesung had simply pulled him into a hug and told him that he shouldn’t speak to his hyungs that way. Inwardly, he had been grateful that Ryeowook hadn’t changed at all in the army thus far. 

They’d all worried about that--that enlistment would change them all somehow. In many ways, serving in the military had indeed changed them, matured them to an extent. They’d gotten to live as average citizens to a larger degree than they had been able to in the past however many years. It had been refreshing to get a taste of the world outside of entertainment, performing, and fame. But there had always been that nagging in the rest of their minds:  _ What if I don’t want to come back? _

Yesung remembers overhearing Changmin talking about that with the other Super Junior boys back when Yunho had enlisted. Changmin had expressed fears over Yunho not wanting to come back to TVXQ because he seemed to be enjoying the army too much. He’d laughed it off, of course, but his words had sent a streak of anxiety through all of them.

Yunho had come back, and nobody had breathed a larger sigh of relief than Shim Changmin. And now, Yesung waits anxiously for the day when Kyuhyun and Ryeowook will return.

Return to society. Return to Super Junior. Return to him.

He spends the better part of the hour writing a letter to Ryeowook (while reading a magazine and watching a basketball game, in typical multitasking Yesung fashion) before signing his name on the bottom of the page and rooting through his desk for an envelope. Ryeowook had bought him a stationery set before he’d gone, but Yesung had worked his way through that already. He supposes he should buy some more for Ryeowook for Christmas and makes a note to himself to do so. 

He supposes that he should try again to sleep. He knows the morning will come all too soon and hopes desperately that these bouts with insomnia with ease as time goes on. He grabs his phone and crawls back into bed. He’s about to click it off for the night when he receives a message from Ryeowook asking if he can send over some photos of them together.

_ Ryeong9: I want to print some out for times I’m not allowed to have my phone. _

Yesung can’t stop the smile from breaking out on his face. He hurriedly pulls open his photo gallery and starts sending photo after photo to Ryeowook. His heart flips inside his chest with the knowledge that the person he misses the most misses him too.

_ Ryeong9: Thanks, hyung. See you soon [heart] _

Yesung falls asleep that night with his phone on his chest and his heart soaring up above with all the stars in the night sky.


	3. day three | ryeowook

Ryeowook can’t believe that this will be his second Christmas in the army. Time has both flown and crawled by, and he’s quite ready to finish his enlistment period. He misses singing with the members, he misses having hair, and as much as he sometimes doesn’t want to admit it, he misses the members and all of their craziness.

He also misses feeding the members, spending an afternoon or two in the kitchen before they all get together to eat.

He shows his love by feeding them… and he hasn’t been able to do that while he’s been away. Sure, they still get together for food, but it isn’t quite the same.

When Heechul had moved out of the dorms and into his own apartment, Ryeowook had still come over every other day to make sure that he was feeding himself. He wasn’t. So as often as he could, Ryeowook would ferry Tupperware containers full of easy-to-heat meals over to Heechul’s apartment along with little containers of pre-cut fruits. When they’d lived together, Ryeowook had always cut up fruit for Heechul to ensure that he was getting the proper vitamins, especially during one of his depressive episodes. 

(Of course, there had been the time that Ryeowook had been away for KRY schedules leaving Donghae in charge of the fruits. Heechul had returned to the dorms to find several mangled oranges and had seethed in anger the entire afternoon until he’d found out it had been Donghae who had done it. Instantly, his anger had melted away as he realized that Donghae had tried his best to make things easier for hyung.)

Ryeowook misses the dorms at times. He misses cooking for Heechul while they watched dramas together. He misses the members all crowding into the kitchen, stealing food while he’s trying to cook. And he even has to admit that he misses the members grousing over their food preferences.

_ “I’m not a short-order cook!”  _ he had exclaimed more than once. But he had always had people to feed. People to love.

You see for Ryeowook, he had always thought that words were… Just words. Actions spoke louder.

Actions had spoken louder every time he’d cooked for Heechul to help him through a depressive episode. Actions had spoken louder every time he spent hours paging through recipes Henry missed from back home. Actions had spoken louder when he’d cooked for all of Ryeoline as an appreciation of their friendship (and secretly to get back at Kyuhyun… but he didn’t need to know that). Actions had spoken louder when he insisted on inviting himself over to Sungmin and Saeun’s new home to cook them dinner for their first anniversary. He’d wanted to do something to express both his congratulations and his regret over the way things had gone down the year before, and so he’d done it the only way he knew how: with food.

And actions still speak louder than words when Ryeowook schedules his army vacation so he can go support the boys at their show in Seoul. It’s so odd to be sitting in the audience, watching his members sing songs without him. He knows Kyuhyun is sequestered backstage watching on the monitors, probably feeling the same way. Ryeowook cheers for the others and listens with teary-eyes as Leeteuk tells him how much they all had worried about him when he had enlisted. Ryeowook realizes that the boys he’d fussed over and worried over and insisted on feeding for all of those years had all been worrying about him too.

As all the boys cluster around him backstage, Ryeowook laughs along with everyone else and lets them all brush his cropped army hair. They all hug him close and thank him for coming, and Ryeowook leaves for the night with his heart bursting in his chest with the knowledge that next Christmas he’ll be back with the members.

Where he belongs.


	4. day four | henry

_ Burdensome. _

Henry hadn’t quite understood that concept when he had first come to Korea. Everyone always used it in the oddest circumstances. Someone would do something nice for someone else, but the recipient would say that they felt burdened instead of happy. It had made no sense.

That is, until his first Chuseok in Super Junior.

Most of the members had used what little time they’d had off to go spend time with their families. Henry knew he wouldn’t be able to fly to Canada and back in the short break they had, so he had resigned himself to spending the holiday alone. Not being Korean, he had never really celebrated Chuseok so the holiday for the most part was lost on him, but knowing that everyone else was with their families and he wasn’t… That had been the harder part.

Especially knowing that the minute he stepped foot outside their building, he would be greeted with the sound of angry screams and jeers demanding that he leave the band.

But then, Siwon hadn’t left with the others and had insisted on taking him and Han Geng for a meal. They’d sneaked out the back entrance and driven to the other side of town, hopefully somewhere where the so-called ‘fans’ wouldn’t find them. Siwon had ordered the traditional Chuseok dishes for them, explaining each one and its significance, and they’d spent a happy several hours together.

It’s a tradition that Siwon has carried through even to the years today, making sure that he and Zhou Mi now are well looked after each holiday.

And it’s a kindness that Henry knows he can never repay.

They’ve never performed as a group in Canada, and probably never will. True, they flew through Vancouver once, but that had been it. He did have the chance to take some of the members around when they’d been in Taiwan, but it hadn’t quite been the same.

_ Burdensome. _

Siwon has already texted him and Zhou Mi about this Christmas, provided they’re both in Korea. Henry says he will be, and Zhou Mi says the same. They haven’t all met up for quite some time, and Henry wonders if things will be awkward between them. Things have changed; things always seem to have changed.

But when they do get together, the three of them fall back into the easy rhythm of the years before. They use Chinese: Zhou Mi’s fluent and beautiful, Henry’s accented but clean, Siwon’s halting but earnest. They laugh over grilled meat and soju that Henry still hasn’t developed a taste for. He lets the atmosphere sink in as he watches the other two chuckle at each other. 

“Why do you do it?” Henry had asked Siwon once. “Why do you always make sure to spend time with us over the holidays?"

Siwon had shrugged. “I want to make Korea feel like home for you.”

Those words still echo in his head today.

In some ways, Korea will never feel like his home. Seoul hasn’t been as kind to him as he would have liked, and there will always be that feeling of otherness, knowing he doesn’t quite belong here. But, there are also those moments where he feels all of the love and comfort a home should provide.

And each time someone new joins the company from another country, he makes sure to seek them out and invite them out for a meal. If he can save just one person from eating the same soup for weeks on end at the beginning, then he’s done his job.

Henry knows he can never repay Siwon (really, who could?), but he’ll do his best to pay that kindness forward, hoping that no one will ever have to suffer the hardships he has.

Hoping that everyone else who tries to make this place their new home will find somewhere welcoming and warm, just like home should be.

Especially, he thinks, on Christmas.


	5. day five | kyuhyun

Kyuhyun feels his eyes glaze over as he sits in set another training course required of all public service workers in his sector. He tries his best to pay attention, but he knows it’s a losing battle. He doodles idly on the notebook in front of him in an attempt to look like he’s diligently taking notes. 

To think, not even seven months ago his life had been completely different. He hadn’t had time to be bored what with the constant touring, performing, recording, guesting… But these days, it feels more like he’s pursuing his father’s dream of him becoming a lawyer rather than his own dream of becoming a singer.

He still remembers those early days when he’d had to beg his father to let him participate in various singing contests and later to audition and join Super Junior. His father had been very against it, wanting his son to pursue academics instead of entertainment. In the end, they’d reached a compromise: his father would allow him to join SM Entertainment as long as he kept up his studies in the meantime. 

Ironically, Kyuhyun’s most poignant memory of his father is one he doesn’t even remember. He simply remembers waking up in a hospital room surrounded by tubes and IV’s and hearing the doctor tell him about how his father had saved his ability to sing. Kyuhyun had started to cry when he realized the immensity of the doctor’s words: that not only could he still sing and pursue his dream, but that it had been his father, the one who had opposed his decision so adamantly, that had been the one to save this dream for his son.

Kyuhyun tears a little at the memory now. He feels regrettable to his parents at times. Most of their friends are grandparents by now, and their children come to visit often. During his years as an active idol, there had been stretches where he wouldn’t come home for months at a time due to schedules. To their credit, his parents never nagged him about his lengthy absences. They knew that he missed them just as much as they missed him.

It’s nice getting to spend more time with them now that he’s permanently stationed in Seoul for his enlistment but…

But it’s still not the same as getting to perform.

To _sing_.

He remembers talking with Changmin about enlistment as an idol and how stark the contrast was between the idol life and duty as an enlisted soldier. Of course, Changmin had spent a good chunk of his enlistment performing with Siwon and Donghae, but it hadn’t been the same. 

It hadn’t been the same, but, in Kyuhyun’s opinion, getting to perform in some capacity would be better than not getting to perform at all. He wishes, not for the first time, that he’d been able to take the police exam and enlist with Changmin, but the accident over a decade ago had sealed his fate for good.

That accident had changed his life in so many ways, and some days he can’t even remember what his torso had looked like before all the scars. Just like how he can’t remember what life was like before Changmin, before Super Junior, before all of this began.

At least he’s still physically able to sing. He tries to reassure himself with that fact constantly, remembering the scare from the year before where his doctor had firmly instructed him to take a lengthy vocal rest from  _ any _ vocalizing due to the nodules in his throat. Those weeks of silence had been filled with a special brand of terror that Kyuhyun never wanted to relive. 

His class finally lets out for the day, and Kyuhyun tries not to look too relieved. He gathers up his things and hurries out with the rest of his fellow workers. 

His family is planning a lowkey Christmas this year. His sister and her husband will be traveling. His parents have a full schedule of Christmas parties to attend. The members will be busy with Super Show 7. Changmin will be in Japan for concerts. His non-idol friends have their own wives and families to attend to. Kyuhyun wonders if maybe he’ll end up spending Christmas by himself for the first time in years. He always starts to get into those pessimistic funks, wondering if everyone has forgotten him, wondering if he’ll be alone forever, wondering if…

“I have exactly one day back in Korea over Christmas,” Changmin says over the phone later that night. “And because I’m such a good friend, I’m willing to spend it with you.”

“You’re Buddhist,” Kyuhyun replies. “You don’t celebrate Christmas with your family anyways.”

“True,” Changmin replies, “but irrelevant. Now do you want to be grateful for this immense sacrifice that I am making to come to Korea so we can order takeout and force Minho to sing bad karaoke or what?”

Kyuhyun just laughs, his heart feeling lighter after all. He suspects that they’ll end up intoxicated at Changmin’s apartment, belting out bad renditions of Christmas songs that Changmin pretends he doesn’t know. He supposes there are worse ways to spend Christmases, even if one is enlisted.

Christmas is nearing closer, and the members have started their Super Show 7 circuit. It’s weird to hide backstage and listen to them cover what should be his parts in their songs, and his heart pangs each time. But when the others come backstage and tell him how much they miss having him onstage and when Sung Si Kyung-hyung texts him to see if he’d be interesting planning another collaboration when he’s discharged and when Changmin informs him that maybe they can  _ finally _ record that duet they’ve been talking about for ages… then Kyuhyun knows that this is just a season and that soon he’ll be back onstage singing with the rest of them.

And, he supposes, that’s what he really wanted this Christmas: reassurance that there will be a place for him to return, to  _ sing _ .


	6. day six | shindong

Shindong sits in one of the conference rooms in the company building, flanked by Eunhyuk and Shim Jaewon as they discuss plans for Super Show 7. The table in front of them is littered with stage diagrams, storyboards, and empty coffee cups. They’ve been here since about ten this morning and show no signs of slowing down. There’s a good chance they might end up working through the night, and Shindong couldn’t be happier. This is what he had looked forward to every single day that he’d been enlisted.

The three of them have already worked out the setlist for their first set of concerts in Seoul and are now working their way through set design. It’s their first super show in nearly two years, and Shindong wants to make it as special as possible as a gift for all of the fans who waited for them.

Who waited for them.  
Who endured with them.  
Who are still here despite… well… everything.

Organizing the setlist had been a greater challenge than Shindong had anticipated. What songs could they do with seven members, one of whom couldn’t dance for long stretches of time? Over the years, they’ve had to rearranged nearly every single one of their songs and this year would be no exception. 

It seems, Shindong thinks to himself, that the only constant thing in Super Junior is that nothing ever stays the same for too long.

Between enlistments, scandals, contract terminations, subunits, and interfering schedules, he can’t even remember the last time more than eight of them had even been in the same place let alone onstage together. Maybe it had been years.

Thankfully, Shindong and Eunhyuk both see the need for constant rearranging as a challenge rather than a setback. It’s allowed them to grow as choreographers, and they both know that the team appreciates them as well. Each time they work with a new choreographer for a comeback, it’s always the two of them who meet with the choreographer first to explain the unique features of their team. 

Heechul can’t dance for long - put him in the third verse only. The vocalists try - don’t give them anything too physically demanding so they can still sing live. Siwon will be filming for most of their rehearsals - you’ll have to train him separately. Donghae and Eunhyuk can improvise, Kyuhyun can’t, Ryeowook shouldn’t. And so on.

On more than one occasion, the members had expressed their gratitude for Shindong and Eunhyuk’s work, and those are the moments that Shindong cherishes the most to this day. He doesn’t have the support and admiration of their fans, at least not like the others do. He’s known this from day one and has, to some extent, come to terms with that. His own personal philosophy is to focus on what he does enjoy and excel at and let others say what they may. That’s partially why he doesn’t particularly mind giving the members a chance to shine onstage while he gets to enjoy the creative process offstage.

Because after all, if he can’t be beautiful, at least he can create beautiful things.

In the early days, he often wondered what it would be like to look like Donghae or Siwon. How dramatically would his life change? (Though he also often chuckled to himself that if he looked like Siwon, would that mean he would dance like Siwon?) But these days, he just tries not to think about it. He would rather spend time creating masterpieces for others to enjoy; he’d rather be the artist than the artwork.

“Okay, hyung, what do you think about this?” Eunhyuk asks, passing him a set of stage mockups. They look through them together with Shindong making a note here or annotating there. Jaewon comes over too to look through the materials and by the time the sun dips below the horizon, the stage setups are well underway.

It’s nearly three in the morning before they call it quits, and Shindong knows his bloodstream will be half coffee by the time this planning cycle is through. But planning and orchestrating and creating give him the sort of energy that caffeine never could.

In a few weeks, they’ll start their next super show cycle and it won’t be the same as it was before. But then again, he decides, it never is. Every new year brings new challenges and new obstacles, but every year he and the rest of  the members do their best to rearrange their lives so make something beautiful. 

Shindong supposes that’s what he wants for Christmas. He doesn’t want some static existence that grows stale with time. In fact, he doesn’t even particularly want to find a beautiful life; he’d rather create it.


	7. day seven | sungmin

Sungmin sits inside on a cold winter’s day to watch the snow fall outside his apartment window. Saeun is out visiting friends, and he has to leave soon to go see his parents. This will mark his third Christmas with his wife, something he’s incredibly grateful for. But this will also mark his third Christmas being on the outskirts of Super Junior.

He sighs. He wonder if things will ever go back to the way things were before. He can still hardly believe that this is how things turned out: with him stepping back from promotions due to the utter vitriol of the people who supposedly loved him. If they really loved him, why would they accept who he had chosen to love? 

It had ultimately been his decision to step back from promotions. It had been a hard choice to be sure, but there had been so much riding on this comeback that he hadn’t wanted to be the reason it failed. Super Junior hadn’t had a proper comeback in  _ eons _ , and all he wanted was for their comeback to succeed.

For if this comeback didn’t do well, then who knows how long they’d have left.

And all each of them wanted was to always have a Super Junior to come back to.

Sure, they’d each talked about leaving in the past. Sungmin even remembers the pranks where Shindong pretended to leave and all the tears that had been associated with his fake departure, the many enlistments of the different members where tears (and drinks) had poured out, and the aching sadness that had lingered after the contract terminations of years before. He wonders if they’ve all grown numb to the pain of absence and missing now. He wonders every time he sees his members onstage or on TV without him and wonders if their chests ache with his absence like he does for them.

That’s really all he wants for Christmas, he realizes. He wants to know that his absence leaves behind a hole, that he hasn’t been so easily replaced or forgotten, that he still… that he’s still a part of this. 

And then he sits backstage at SS7 watching the other members scurry around getting ready for the performance with their stylists chasing after them. The whole thing is bittersweet: it’s nice to be back amongst the hustle and bustle of backstage, but knowing that he won’t get to go out with the rest… 

As he sits with Kyuhyun and Zhou Mi, he realizes that he’s not alone in this. His situation may be unique but the outcome isn’t something new to Super Junior. As he chats with the other two and Changmin who’s wandered in from who knows where, he feels his chest fill with a warmth he hadn’t experienced in months.

“It’s weird without you,” Kyuhyun says. “It’s weird without all of you. Even watching the seven members onstage just feels…” 

“Yeah,” they all agree. 

After the show, everyone talks about going to eat just like they used to do. Sungmin starts to shrink back, planning to exit without anyone noticing him so he doesn’t have to deal with the awkwardness of not being invited, when Shindong spots him. “You’re coming with us, right?” he calls.

“Uh,” Sungmin replies.

Siwon appears at his side and pulls Sungmin into a hug. “C’mon, hyung, it won’t be the same without you.”

“Really?” Sungmin hears himself ask before he can stop the words from coming.

“Of course,” Siwon replies, his voice completely serious. “It’s never been the same without you.”

Sungmin feels his heart explode inside his chest as he tries to keep his mouth from breaking into a huge smile. “Then of course I’m coming,” he replies. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”


	8. day eight | siwon

Every time an interviewer asks Siwon what he wants for Christmas, he tries not to outwardly cringe. He’ll give the perfect PR answer that’s something along the lines of “world peace” or “an end to world hunger” and his cast members will tease him about how he should run for Miss Congeniality. “I’ve seen your super show photos,” Gongmyung will say. “You’ve got the legs for it!”

But on the inside, there’s that not-so-little voice that shouts,  _ “You don’t deserve anything for Christmas!” _

And well, it’s not wrong.

At least that’s what Siwon thinks.

It’s been a little over a month since everything changed, and Siwon is still at loose ends. He's glad that it's the Christmas season so he has an excuse to be at church more often, and that keeps him from going absolutely mad from the intrusive thoughts that torment him day by day. He's been going to weekly therapy sessions but even those feel undeserved. After all, isn't this whole disaster his fault to begin with?   
  
_ No, no, _ his therapist will tell him.  _ And Siwon, it's in the past and we must leave it there. _   
  
But…

But Siwon wonders if things will ever go back to the way things were.

If they can go back.

If they even  _ should _ .

He still hasn’t forgiven himself for the incident. After all, he’s the one who had adopted the dog in the first place. And he should have trained it better and taken better care of it and and and… 

And would he ever be able to forgive himself? This isn’t just something he can apologize for and everything will go back to the way things were. This is life-altering. Life- _ ending _ .

He sighs. There have been moments over there years where he’s considered stepping back from the idol life to finally pursue his dream of becoming a missionary. It’s something that had been a pipe dream then, but these days, the idea starts sounding more and more appealing. He wonders if maybe, just maybe…

But he doesn’t want to make his decision out of fear, running away from a devastating situation that he can’t help but feel responsible for creating. Besides, the company would absolutely not have it. 

_ Christmas _ .

Christmas had historically been a joyful time for the Choi family. They would spend ample time during the month of December visiting relatives before he and his immediate family would make their annual trek to the Middle East to celebrate Christ’s birth. They still haven’t decided whether or not they’ll venture out to Bethlehem this year. His parents want to, his sister is indifferent, and he just doesn’t know. Siwon thinks that maybe it would be better to hunker down in Korea and humbly celebrate the annual reminder that Christ came to forgive sinners.

“It’ll get easier,” Kyuhyun murmurs when they’re backstage at the recording studio. 

_ Will it? _ Siwon wants to ask. They’ve never been through something like this before.

“We’ve been through a litany of terrible things,” Kyuhyun continues, as if reading his thoughts. “And this… We’ll make it through.”

_ We. _

It’s a simple nuance, but it warms Siwon’s heart nonetheless. For the past two years, he’d felt like he’d been on his own, despite having Donghae and Changmin. And then not getting to come back to the group like he had planned… 

_ We. _

As always, Kyuhyun is right. Siwon takes a deep breath and lets that sentiment echo in his brain the rest of the day, chasing out the demons in his thoughts. He carries that with him the rest of the month, and while he knows that things will take time to heal, he knows that they’ll make it through.

After all, they all have scars of one sort or another. That’s the price they pay for living here on earth.

Siwon stands next to his sister as they sing Christmas carols in church and prays earnestly that these scars will make him stronger, gentler, and more conscientious in the future. And he prays, quietly, simply, and humbly, for forgiveness.

And that’s all he really wants this Christmas.


	9. day nine | zhou mi

Zhou Mi fiddles with his passport as he stands in the immigration line at the Incheon airport for only the eight millionth time. It’s unexpectedly busy today and he’s not exactly sure why, but rather than complain, he simply fiddles with his passport as he waits for the line to move forward. 

His passport expires next year, and he thinks it’s about time. Despite his best attempts (and litany of cute passport covers) to keep the cover pristine, his passport shows the wear and tear of nearly a decade of use. 

A lot has happened in that past decade, Zhou Mi thinks to himself as he thumbs through the pages. His passport is filled with stamps and visas from countries all over the globe, and he quite likes how colorful the pages have become. Many of the stamps have happy memories associated with them from vacationing with friends, to performing overseas, to traveling for filmings. There are some days where he can hardly believe that he, a skinny kid from Wuhan, had been able to travel as extensively as he had.

He and the others in line shuffle forward as the line moves, and he keeps flipping through the pages until he stops at the most weathered page in his passport.

His E-6 visa allowing him to perform in Korea.

It’s simultaneously his most prized and hated possession. Prized, because that sticker in his passport had allowed him a myriad of amazing opportunities to finally achieve the dreams that he had worked so hard for. Hated, because that sticker differentiated him from nearly every single one of his band members.

Zhou Mi sighs. He remembers the many hours he’d spent in this line and ones similar to it all over the world. Most of their international travel hadn’t caused much of a fuss; when they traveled to other countries in Asia, all of the members had stood together in the same line marked for foreigners. Traveling back to China had been convenient--for him anyways. He’d happily flounce towards the line for Chinese nationals and wait patiently on the other side for everyone else, excited to be back in China with a familiar language, culture, and, most importantly, food. 

Yet traveling back to Korea with the whole team had always ended each trip on a somewhat sour note. The other boys always ran to the Korean nationals line, overjoyed at being back home, while Zhou Mi and Henry had headed to the permanent residents line, separate from everyone else. Zhou Mi would stand in line, red passport in hand, and wonder if he would ever truly feel at home in Korea.

He still doesn’t know that answer today.

He hasn’t been back to Korea for awhile due to the political situation and well, other things. The restrictions had been lifted weeks ago but he frankly hadn’t found a reason to go back quite yet before now. He hasn’t had schedules in Korea for months and well…

And well sometimes, all Zhou Mi wants for Christmas, is to truly find a place to call home.

In the early years after joining the company, China had most certainly been his home. True, he had barely visited in those years, but he had missed his country with a fierceness he hardly thought possible. He remembers sticking close to Geng-ge right when he first moved to Korea, partially because he couldn’t speak Korean and partially because spending time with Han Geng had made Korea seem a little less foreign.

But then… Han Geng left and Zhou Mi was left on his own.

Over time, he had learned Korean and learned his way around Seoul, and Korea had finally started to become less foreign. Some of his friends from China had come to visit and he had showed them around the city with relative ease. They had been impressed, and he had wondered if maybe he could finally call Seoul his own. 

The border security agent at the desk motions Zhou Mi forward, and he walks up to the window and hands over his passport. She scans it looking for the relevant entry requirements and then pages through the booklet looking for an empty page to stamp. She hands the document back to Zhou Mi and says something in English he doesn’t quite understand. He simply smiles and walks forward, taking the escalator down the stairs to the baggage claim.

Over the past three years, he’d spent more time in China that he had in a good long while. Without many Korean schedules to attend to, he had taken advantage of his downtime to head back to his home country to find different promotional activities in China to attend to. He’d been quite busy for a good stretch of time: filming dramas, shooting magazine pictorials, guesting on TV shows. At first, his excitement at getting to finally do a plethora of activities in China had been at the forefront of his mind, but after a month, the thoughts he had tried so desperately to ignore had crept back in.

Zhou Mi had realized that China no longer felt like home to him.

Sure, in many ways, China would always be his home in one sense of the word, but as for the place where he felt most comfortable and welcome and loved… 

That’s a place he’s still looking for today.

He collects his bags from the carousel and walks out out the terminal, looking for a taxi. He rides back to Apgujeong and stares out the window. The streets are a combination of foreign and familiar, and his brain tries desperately to keep up with the driver’s constant stream of Korean, narrating everything they pass, not realizing that Zhou Mi has been here only a thousand times before.

As the taxi pulls up to the recording building, Zhou Mi wonders if he’s made a huge mistake. He pays the driver and alights onto the pavement, his stomach in knots as he makes his way toward the Artist Only entrance on the side of the building. He shows his identification, and the security guard lets him in.

He hasn’t been here in so long, and the hustle and bustle of idols, managers, coordis, and production staff is a bit overwhelming at first glance. He hurries through the fray until he spots a piece of paper taped to the dressing room door. He takes a deep breath and pushes the door open, wondering what sort of greeting awaits him on the other side.

“Seasoning!”

At Heechul’s yell, the others all look up from their phones at the door. Then suddenly, the members are crowding around him, hugging him and speaking in rapid Korean that his brain struggles to sort out. He hears a spot of uncertain Mandarin and turns his head to see Kyuhyun to his right, his hair cropped shorter than Zhou Mi has probably ever seen.

_ Kuixian. _

“You’re--you’re here!” he sputters. Kyuhyun just nods, smiling sheepishly.

At some point in between updating the others on his life and them updating him on theirs, a PD calls to corral the members needed to record. Heechul hangs back for a bit longer to give Zhou Mi one last lookover. “Where are you staying, Seasoning?"

“Maybe with Jia, though I haven’t asked her and--”

“You can stay with me,” Heechul says, interrupting. “I’ll text you the address and the passcode.”

Zhou Mi smiles. “Thanks, hyung.”

Heechul just nods and saunters out to join the others, leaving Zhou Mi behind with Kyuhyun and Siwon, whom he hadn’t noticed before. They motion him over to the couches, and Siwon gets up to grab him a bottle of water. They, in slow but earnest Mandarin, tell him about military service, about UNICEF, about holidays, and about sitting out from promotions. Zhou Mi smiles encouragingly, correcting their Chinese when necessary, and tells them all about being back in China.

“I miss China,” Kyuhyun says wistfully.

_ I miss you _ , Zhou Mi thinks to himself.

When the other members return from recording, they find Zhou Mi nestled against Kyuhyun, giggling over something on Kyuhyun’s phone. The noise level rises and soon they’re all piled around the couch laughing about nothing in particular. Leeteuk and Heechul leave for other schedules, and the others start making plans for dinner.

“You’re coming with us, right?” Kyuhyun asks Zhou Mi, standing up from the couch.

Zhou Mi flashes back to the  early days when he’d join the Super Junior boys for dance practice and nothing more. There had been rumors that SM would be making a Mandarin subunit, one that would include Zhou Mi, and thus he’d started working with them. They’d often go out to eat after, but he would always make some sort of excuse to eliminate any awkwardness of not going out with them. 

But there had been one instance in particular where they’d been discussing the takeaway place down the block and Kyuhyun had asked, “Jomi, you’re coming with us right?”

Zhou Mi had nodded, and that had been the start of it all.

“Of course,” he says now, flashing the others a smile. He grabs his bag and joins the others as they all walk out of the dressing room. Half the boys are arguing about something stupid, with the others laughing at the absurdity of it all. Zhou Mi just watches in a contented happiness, wondering if this is what it feels like to be home.


	10. day ten | eunhyuk

If you ask Eunhyuk what he wants for Christmas on a variety show, he’ll give you a cheeky grin and tell you that he wants to win one of those dumb games Super Junior plays and force all the members to admit that he really is pretty. He’ll joke that he’s glad Siwon is indisposed so that he’ll finally get his chance to shine as Super Junior’s most attractive member. The others will guffaw and someone (who’s name starts with D and rhymes with Longhae) will probably kick him in the butt.

But if you ask Eunhyuk what he wants for Christmas late at night when he’s had a drink or two, he’ll tell you, in a soft but earnest whisper, that all he wants is the reassurance that Super Junior will go on forever.

He’ll never forget the day that Leeteuk had casually mentioned that he was considering choosing a ‘vice leader’ to lead the group while he was enlisted. They’d been in the van on the way to a recording when he’d brought it up, and Eunhyuk had been mildly surprised. He hadn’t even considered the possibility of a vice leader, but he supposed it made sense. Especially with so many members. 

“I was thinking of asking you,” Leeteuk had said. 

Eunhyuk had turned to him with wide eyes. “Me? Why not Heechul-hyung?”

Leeteuk had just given him a look as if to say  _ You know why not _ . But aloud he said, “He’s already enlisted, but you won’t enlist until after I return.”

And yet, it had been so much more than that.

Eunhyuk remembers the day that Leeteuk enlisted and the night before where they’d all laughed, cried, and drank too much. It had been sobering when Leeteuk had officially passed the baton of leadership to him, and he had been overwhelmed with the immense responsibility of it all.

Things had gone smoothly, for the most part, while Leeteuk had been away. The most important thing was that there had been a Super Junior for Leeteuk to return to.

_ Would there be a Super Junior for Kyuhyun to return to? _

That’s the question that keeps haunting Eunhyuk’s mind. For the most part, he tries not to think about it in favor of enjoying the times they do have together rehearsing, recording, performing, filming. He does his best to hide his worries from the members and from the fans, instead giving his all to cheering on the team and throwing himself wholeheartedly into whatever activity they’re doing now. He knows things are different, but things have always been different and they’ve made it through and they’ll make it through this too right?

_ Right? _

Every so often, he and Donghae would crash in Leeteuk’s apartment and watch themselves on old variety shows. Sometimes Leeteuk would be there to join in; sometimes he wouldn’t. They’d started an old episode of  _ Strong Heart _ , one of those ‘enlistment specials’ before Heechul had left. Eunhyuk remembers the filming well: it had been one of the few shows where Heechul had been teary-eyed in addition to everyone else. Heechul had thanked Leeteuk for holding them all together even when he himself had been the problem.

[ “Leeteuk’s greatest wish is for Super Junior to stay together forever,” ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=veYUn9LavRQ) Heechul had said while dabbing at his eyes with a kleenex. Eunhyuk had just about lost it, and Leeteuk had walked backstage to sob.

He hadn’t fully understood Leeteuk’s sentiment then. Sure, he had also wanted Super Junior to stay together. They’d been facing their second of many enlistments and the future had been uncertain. Yet to some extent their future had always been uncertain and this hadn’t been particularly new.

But after two years of standing in as the vice leader and shouldering the burden that Leeteuk had carried for years, Eunhyuk had felt the weight of this enormous responsibility: the responsibility to keep Super Junior safe until Leeteuk returned. While they all had formally transferred leadership responsibilities back to Leeteuk, Eunhyuk knew he’d always feel responsible for the others. He remembers  crying on  _ Explorers of the Human Body _ at the thought of members leaving and at the thought that he hadn’t taken care of the others as well as he should have. He knows he’s always been tenderhearted, but this… 

Eunhyuk just wants to take away all the hurt, all the troubles, all the worries… to ensure that everything now and in the future will always be wonderful and successful and… 

And some nights, he and Donghae curl up on the couch in Leeteuk’s apartment, and he doesn’t complain when Donghae holds him close because he too needs something to hold onto. Donghae will fall asleep quickly and Eunhyuk will lie awake, hoping and praying that Super Junior will be all together forever. He’ll listen to Donghae’s even breathing, the sound of Leeteuk keying in the passcode at the door, and the way he softly calls, “Anyone home?” Then he and Leeteuk will stay up and talk about the past, the future, and everything in between, all while Donghae sleeps contentedly in his lap. 

“We’ll make it, hyung,” Eunhyuk will mumble once he’s half asleep. “We gotta.”

And Leeteuk will just hum in agreement as he too dozes off.

They’ll make it.  
They have to.


	11. day eleven | donghae

Every year, Donghae wants one thing for Christmas: to be loved. It’s the same thing he wants on any given day, but especially around Christmas. He spends the entire month talking about how much he wants a new fridge or new espresso machine or tickets to the next Bruno Mars concert in Seoul, and the rest of the members all moan about how expensive all of his requests are. 

(Really, they’d complain even if he asked for chewing gum. They’re all cheap and they know it.)

But every year, Heechul sees right through all of that. He too groans along with the other members whenever Donghae not-so-subtly hints at what he’d like under the Christmas tree, but every year he does the same thing he always does: conveniently “forgets” to buy Donghae a present and offers to take him out for a movie instead. Except they never go out for a movie. Heechul always talks Donghae into coming over to his apartment instead, and they browse through Netflix for something to watch. Then they’ll sit on the couch with Heechul’s menagerie of pets and watch in silence until Donghae falls asleep, nestled up against Heechul’s shoulder. 

Because Heechul knows that it’s not necessarily the gift that Donghae likes, it’s the thought and effort that went into purchasing the gift and hand-delivering it to Donghae himself. Because more than anything, all Donghae wants is to spend time with the people he loves.

In many ways, Heechul thinks that Donghae is like a puppy. He’s like the dog that walks around a party offering himself for everyone to pet. He’s the same way with the members, especially when he’s feeling needy. He’ll go around to every member in an attempt to acquire a sufficient amount of love, hanging onto each one. The members grouse, but they will always indulge him.

They know that Donghae loves them.

And they in turn love Donghae too.

The members sometimes make fun of Donghae and his countryside innocence. Donghae loves everyone, trusts everyone, and will give up everything for everyone. He’ll get mad at Eunhyuk for not telling him literally everything, which will exasperate Eunhyuk because that’s just not how you do things in the city and hasn’t Donghae been living in the city long enough?

And yet… And yet they all love the fact that living in the city, that being an idol, that attaining riches and fame… that none of these things have changed Donghae one bit. In many ways, he’s still the simple country boy with big dreams and an even bigger heart who moved up to Seoul as a teenager to fulfill his dad’s dream that has now become his own. 

In the days before Christmas, when the storm clouds roll in and everyone’s tears start to fall, it’s Donghae who goes around with hugs and tissues and enough love for everyone. For once, he doesn’t cry. Not in front of the others anyways. He’s received so much love in the past and now it’s time to give that love to everyone else.

That’s how Donghae will spend his Christmas and the days and weeks and months that follow. He’ll spend it loving everyone around him with everything he has, because what he really wants is for everyone he loves to know that they’re loved beyond compare.


	12. day twelve | heechul

This year, Heechul decides he doesn’t really want anything for Christmas. 

He knows he won’t be getting anything from the members anyways. Back in the early days of Super Junior’s existence, they had made the unanimous decision not to buy Christmas presents for each other. Sure, some decided to buy gifts, but there had never been the expectation that it was required. Heechul had been the champion of that movement. When they’d debuted, they had all been relatively poor kids and in no position to buy anything for eleven other people. 

Plus, Yunho didn’t have enough money for Heechul to steal to buy presents for everyone.

This year, his heart hangs even heavier than usual. He still can’t believe everything that’s happened. He keeps running through things in his mind. Could he have done something differently? Could he have stopped this? Could he have made things better? But he knows, better than maybe anyone, about the darkness that feels inescapable at times. Hadn’t he experienced that same darkness so many times over the years?

Yet he reminds himself that he can’t feel guilty for any of this. It does not do well to dwell on the what-if’s of the past and forget to go forward into the future. He knows this. But it still hurts.

Heechul spends long hours with those closest to him, letting them talk through their emotions and sadness until he realizes he needs to step back and find some fresh air. The next few days are going to be hard, he knows, but the days and weeks to come will be filled with a unique sort of ache that won’t easily dissipate.

He walks home from Taeyeon’s apartment exhausted and drained but not looking forward to returning to his own empty apartment. He remembers people asking him and the other members why they had lived together in the dorms for so long as adults, and they’d each had a different reply. Some said it was convenient, some said it was cheap, and some simply just liked being together. Heechul had always liked having someone to come home to (usually Donghae), someone to cook for him (Ryeowook), someone to sit with him and watch TV (Kangin), or just someone to talk with (Leeteuk). He knows that there had been many days and nights where coming back to a dorm-full of members had been one of the few things keeping him centered.

Before Heechul gets all the way home, his phone rings. He answers quickly, grateful for the distraction from his own thoughts.

“Hyung?” Donghae’s voice echoes through the phone. “I’m lonely. Can I come over?”

Oh Donghae. Pure, warm-hearted Donghae who always voices exactly what he is thinking or feeling at any given time. Donghae who doesn’t bullshit anyone. That’s always been something that Heechul has appreciated the most about Donghae: they’re no subterfuge, no bullshit, and no agenda. Just Donghae with more than enough love for everyone he meets.

“Of course,” Heechul replies, trying to keep the relief from his voice.

“Good, because I’m already here,” Donghae replies. “Where are you?”

Heechul chuckles. “I’ll be there in five minutes,” he replies. 

“Okay,” Donghae replies. “I invited Hyuk too,.”

“Even better,” Heechul answers.

By the time he gets home, Donghae is standing outside of Heechul’s apartment handing his credit card to a food delivery driver. Heechul is secretly relieved. He knows for a fact the only food he has in his house is for his pets. He lets Donghae in and they carry the bags of food to the kitchen table. Eunhyuk shows up while they’re setting out the plates, followed by Yesung and Siwon. Donghae grins sheepishly. “I invited everyone else,” he says. 

And sure enough, there’s a message in the group chat telling everyone to come over to Heechul’s. Heechul isn’t mad. This is one of the rare times where he wants nothing more than to be surrounded by the people who have kept him from falling for so many years. 

They order more food as the other members arrive, and Heechul thinks his apartment might not be big enough for all of them. They eventually give up trying to cram around his small kitchen table and instead move everything to the floor where they can all sit and eat comfortably. This is how they used to eat after all, since they had too many members to fit around a proper table. It’s a fond memory: everyone crowded into the back room of a restaurant with their managers only ordering the cheap meat that thankfully everyone likes. 

Heechul tilts his head to the side to look at Leeteuk. His face is etched with worry, and he only picks at his food without really eating it. Heechul knows that Leeteuk tries to be strong for everyone and wants him to know that it’s time to let others be strong for him. He’s grateful to Ryeowook, sitting at Leeteuk’s side, who gently urges Leeteuk to eat something if he can, even if it’s just sipping at broth. Ryeowook, the one who had kept Heechul safe so many times by his sheer presence, had used a few of his precious vacation days to be with the others during this time, and for that, Heechul is immensely grateful. Ryeowook is far stronger than others may think, and his quiet strength will bolster the rest of them. Yesung is next, for once without his phone. Instead, he leans against Ryeowook to put some noodles onto his plate to make sure he eats. After all, he can only imagine the horrors of army food. 

Eunhyuk is on Yesung’s other side, stealing food off of Donghae’s plate. Donghae, who’s sitting next to him, squawks in protest and tries to take his revenge. It’s all childish, but Heechul feels the corners of his lips tugging into a smile. Things always seemed to be better with those two around. Henry is next to Donghae, drinking a can of pop and making some terrible puns at Donghae’s expense, which causes Siwon, on his other side, to chuckle into his ramen. It’s good to have Siwon with them. They’ve had their differences over the years of course, but there has been no one who has given Heechul so much love as Siwon as. It’s not easy for Siwon now, and Heechul wants to support him the best he can.

Kyuhyun is on Siwon’s other side, and he reaches into the fray of takeout containers for some more food. The two of them had talked more in the past few months than they had for awhile as they compared their experiences in public service. They had both known since those car accidents that they’d never be able to enter active duty, and Heechul had always thought it had been interesting how similarly their fates had aligned. Kyuhyun had expressed his gratitude numerous times over the past few months for Heechul’s insight into public service. Heechul had just been grateful that his experience had been able to help someone else.

Zhou Mi sits next to Kyuhyun, taking in the whole atmosphere. Heechul knows his Korean has gotten a bit rusty but also knows that Zhou Mi is glad to be back with the rest of them. Shindong is next to him, speaking slowly so Zhou Mi has time to translate in his head. He makes Zhou Mi laugh, and Heechul is glad to have their mood-maker back in their midst. 

And then there’s Sungmin, tucked against his side and muttering something about his diet. Heechul tells him to fuck the diet and eat whatever, and so Sungmin does. Heechul had sent congratulations for his wedding anniversary a few days before, and Sungmin had replied gratefully.  _ I’m still grateful that you and Siwon-hyung were there as my best men, _ Sungmin had said.  _ I couldn’t have done this all without your love and support. _

Love and support Heechul would promise to always give.

He chuckles, in spite of himself. He’s gotten soft as the years have gone by, he knows. In the early days, all he had wanted was to succeed at his own career and form his own path, but now he can’t go a few hours without thinking about the other members. All he wants is for them to be happy and healthy forever, and he doesn’t even cringe as his own cheesy feelings.

But it’s true, he thinks, as he looks around at the lot of them squashed into his living room. More than anything, he wants the members to be well taken care of, and Heechul will do his best to ensure that happens. His best, and that’s all anyone could ask for.

That’s what he really wants for Christmas. For Christmas, for New Year’s, for Valentine’s Day, and for every holiday yet to come. 

**Author's Note:**

> As always, comments are love ♡


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